Until We Meet Again Read online




  Until We Meet Again

  by S.E. Campbell

  Published by Astraea Press

  www.astraeapress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.

  UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

  Copyright © 2013 S.E.CAMPBELL

  ISBN 978-1-62135-134-4

  Cover Art Designed by Book Beautiful

  For Jethro, who decided the name of the trilogy.

  Also, for my agent, Sheri Williams. I wouldn't have re-written this book if it wasn't for her.

  Prologue

  Osier Schmidt stood inside of a graveyard, his hand perched on his belly. There was a flask of liquor in his fat, clenched fist, and he gazed at a gravestone in front of him. It belonged to Eden Schmidt, his daughter. He gritted his teeth and then pivoted to peer at the headstone next to that. It belonged to Rebecca Schmidt, his wife.

  He took another chug of his drink. It dulled the edges of his mind, causing everything to be a blur. The world became softer in this haze, and he preferred it that way. It wasn't like he had a job, or anything else, to be presentable for. Alone. All alone. He peered at the tombstones again. Chances were good it was entirely his fault his daughter had died.

  The sound of voices in the distance caused him to turn around and look up at the rolling hills covered with gravestones. A massive crowd was forming at the top of the hill. Curiosity sparked inside of him as well as the feeling of intense loneliness. He peered down at himself and knew he was not presentable for such a gathering. Osier wore a white T-shirt stained with beer and a pair of loose shorts. Sweat ran down his back.

  I'll just have a look. He sighed and headed up the hill. Halfway up, his breathing became strained. He could hardly breathe.

  At the top of the hill, he spotted a beautiful brunette woman wearing all black clutching her face. Tears streamed down her cheek. He guessed she was a widow or a parent. At her side was a cold-eyed man. Osier made his way through the large crowd and stared down at a dark brown casket. There was a picture of the deceased person on a piece of board by the grave. To him, it appeared cruel to have a picture of such a young, beautiful girl displayed so prominently when everybody knew hers was a face they would never see again. But what did he know? At one time he’d thought he knew everything, but now he was well aware he didn't know anything at all. As he clenched his fists and continued to look at the picture, he sighed.

  A collective gasp from the people who had gathered interrupted his thoughts. He spun around, frowning. Even the beautiful brunette woman had stopped weeping. A flash of white erupted from beyond the crowd.

  What's going on? He leaned forward, curious.

  A girl stepped forward, through the throng. His breath caught in his throat as he saw who stood before him, shrouded in white, with long golden hair trickling down her back.

  It was Eden, the daughter he had lost twenty years ago.

  Chapter One

  Twenty years earlier…

  Sixteen-year-old Eden stared wide-eyed at their new house. It was beautiful, though a little run-down. It was painted ivy green, the roof was black, and there was a surfboard planted in the yellowing grass. She touched a part of the fence that surrounded the house and gasped when it toppled with a loud bang.

  Shoot. Mom was going to kill her. She twisted around to check and see if her mom, Rebecca, had noticed what she'd done, but she hadn't. Rebecca was struggling out of the rental truck with her fat pink purse in hand, landing on her feet with a thump before wobbling dangerously on her high heels. She walked forward, stopped on the sidewalk, and peered at the house with her hand shading her eyes.

  "Goodness. It's not much, is it?"

  Eden shrugged. "I don't know. I think it has its charms."

  Her mother shrugged and headed back to the moving van. When she reached the back door, she stared at the handle as if it were her enemy.

  "Eden, would you mind opening the door for me? I just got my nails done. I don't want to chip them."

  Eden shrugged and walked forward, seized the bottom of the door, and heaved it upward with a grunt. The physical effort it took to open the door made her pant. She only weighed a hundred pounds and was shocked the door hadn't taken her with it.

  "Thanks," Rebecca said, grabbing the side of the van and pulling herself inside. "I wish your father had paid for an actual moving company instead of making me do all of this myself. You know how I hate to do physical labor."

  Oh, boy, Eden thought. Here we go again. Eden knew her mom was baiting her so she could go on a tangent about Dad. She had been the victim of that ploy enough, she knew not to fall for it again.

  Eden entered the van, selected one of the boxes, and grabbed it with a grunt. Rebecca held a single tiny box in her arms, but she huffed as if it weighed ten thousand pounds.

  "Don't you think this would be easier if your father was here?" her mom asked, once again wiggling the hook in front of Eden.

  "I suppose," Eden said, "but he had to work. It can't be helped. He's the one who got us the house to begin with, right? It's not like we can complain."

  Rebecca sighed. Eden stole a worried look at her before jumping off the end of the van and then walking toward the house. She approached the front screen door and stared at the cobwebs on it. Cleaning the house inside was going to be a chore.

  She shrugged, reached for the door, and twisted the knob. When she stepped inside, she gasped. Even on the inside, the house was run-down, but like the outside, it had charm. The walls were pained tan, the floors were tiled with golden slabs, and pictures still hung on the wall from the previous owner. She stopped to peer at one and felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. The picture was of a dark-haired boy with bright blue eyes.

  At the slamming sound coming from the end of the hallway, she jumped and dropped her box of antiques on the floor.

  "Hello?" Eden asked, fear clenching her stomach as she stepped forward. Rats, maybe?

  She entered the next room and discovered the dining room, which connected to a large kitchen. But there was a major problem. There wasn't anything there, not even a rat.

  ****

  Eden lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Downstairs, she could hear the sounds of yelling and banging. She rolled onto her side and debated covering her ears. Yet if she did that, she wouldn’t know if someone got injured. When her parents fought, there was always a possibility of cuts or broken bones. Her dad had once had his cheekbone smashed in because Rebecca had hurled a hairdryer at his head.

  "You were sleeping with the neighbor, weren't you?" her dad asked, his voice somehow still reaching her even though she was all the way upstairs.

  "How dare you!" her mom screamed.

  There was the sound of something splintering. Rebecca had probably thrown a plate.

  "I don't need to take this," her dad yelled. "I work twelve hour shifts so that you can have your expensive outfits and your makeup. For what? To be treated like this?"

  "If it wasn't for you, then I wouldn't be stuck in this place at all. Lizzy said marrying you would be a mistake." There was more thudding and then more shattering. "It's entirely your fault. The past sixteen years of my life have been a mess because of you."

  "Judging by how Lizzy ended up, I wouldn't recommend following her choices. Where is sh
e? Cold in the ground because of her own mistakes."

  "Shut up. Just shut up." There were foot stomps upon the floor. "One more word. One more. I'll do something drastic. I swear I will."

  "Then why don't you just leave, like you always do?"

  "Maybe I will."

  Something heavier was thrown this time. Eden could tell because there was a bang and then a dull thud. Eden had heard this sound enough times to know what it meant. Her dad bellowed a nonsense word downstairs.

  There was the sound of pounding feet on the stairs and then trudging in the hallway. Rebecca opened her door without knocking and barged inside. Her mom's face was covered in a sheen of sweat, her makeup was smeared, and her curly red hair created a frizzy halo around her head. Eden straightened up, spun around, and seized her backpack. It had already been packed with clothes.

  "Get ready," Rebecca said. "We're leaving."

  "I know." Would clothes for two nights be enough this time? She hoped so. She hated it when they were gone longer than that. "I'm ready. Where are we going this time?"

  Rebecca rolled her eyes, seized Eden’s hand, and began to drag her down the hall. "You are so much like your father during times like this."

  Eden knew her mom didn't mean it as a compliment.

  Rebecca thundered down the stairs with Eden following behind, and the two of them went into the kitchen where her dad stood on top of heaps of broken glass and the remainders of a blender. When he saw them come in, he nodded his head at her and sent Rebecca a cold smirk.

  "See you tomorrow, Rebecca," her dad said. "I won't be back from work until ten o'clock, so don't wait up."

  "Bite me," Rebecca said acidly.

  She frowned, went out into the garage, climbed into their white car and started the ignition. Eden climbed into the seat next to her and drew her knees up to her chin.

  Chapter Two

  Rebecca pulled into the lot of a dumpy hotel and parked. Eden eyeballed some men walking by their car and felt her stomach pinch with nervousness. Eden and her mom had made some escapes to pretty sketchy places before, but this had to be the worst.

  "Oh, Mom," Eden said, "can't you just bite the bullet this time and go home? I haven't been sleeping well as it is, and this place isn't going to help."

  "Hush, Eden." Her mom shot her a scowl. "You're either on his side or you're on my side. Don't tell me that you'd rather be with him?"

  "Please don't do this to me again. He's my dad."

  Rebecca glared at her but said nothing.

  Just as Eden was about to open her mouth to beg to be taken home again, her mom whipped around, got out of the car, and stormed inside a door with the word "Ofice" written above it. Eden grimaced at the misspelling and knew her night was about to get a lot worse. She entered the office behind Rebecca and was assaulted by the stench of something sour.

  Not only did the office smell bad, it was cluttered too. The desk was covered with old fast food wrappers and half eaten burgers. A thin, rat-like man sat behind the desk with a name tag that said his name was Rod. His shirt was stained with what looked like ketchup. The clock on the wall showed that it was fifteen past midnight.

  "I would like to get a room for two, please," her mom said.

  "Okay. That'll be seventy-five dollars," Rod said.

  Rebecca swore and then rifled through her purse. Her rummaging became more frantic.

  "That dirty old…" Her mom ran a hand through her hair and then stomped her right foot on the ground multiple times. "No, no, no. This is not happening."

  Eden's eyes widened. She hadn't seen a reaction like this since Rebecca's favorite blouse had been sold out on the shopping channel.

  "Mom?" Eden asked, stepping toward her. "What's wrong?"

  "I don't suppose you have any money on you, do you?" her mom asked.

  Last month, Rebecca had borrowed the last of her money and had not given it back. Eden shook her head.

  "Oh." Her mom's face became red and her eyes narrowed. "That creep. That dirty, slimy creep."

  "Are you talking about Dad?" Eden asked, afraid of the answer.

  "Of course I am." Rebecca scowled at her. "Who else? He took my money and credit cards. He threatened it, but I didn't actually think he would do something as ludicrous as that."

  Eden grimaced. "Then we should just go home, right? There isn't another way that we can pay for the hotel room, and we can't stay for free."

  "There is another way," Rod said, grinning at them.

  No. Eden stared at him, knowing the meaning behind that slimy grin. After living with her mom, the ex-supermodel gone parent, how could she not know? Almost all men were after her. He's going to want her to…

  Rebecca spun around and nodded at Eden. "I'm not going to let your father get the best of me. Sit down."

  In her mind, she saw her dad's face. Jealous. Angry. Miserable. She wasn't sure what to do, so she lingered where she was, looking from Rod to her mom and then back again.

  "Eden, sit down," Rebecca ordered.

  Eden heard her mom's stern tone, took a step back, and whirled around. Five years ago she might have cried, but she didn't now. She was too used to this kind of situation. Instead of getting emotional, she sat down on the stain-sodden chair, drew her knees up to her chin, and watched Rebecca leave with Rod, probably heading to his office or his own personal bedroom.

  After that, she looked at the clock on the wall and watched the time slip away from her.

  ****

  Her mom returned twenty minutes later with her hair in disarray. Eden watched her with her mouth opened wide. So Rebecca had done it again, then. A part of her wanted to run from the room at this moment and go home, but another part of her wanted to stay here with her mom. That was always the problem. Eden knew the moment she stepped out of Rebecca's world, she might be kicked out for good. As much as she hated her mom's actions, that frightened her more than anything else.

  "You okay?" Rebecca asked.

  "Fine," Eden lied. "Just fine."

  The two of them walked to the hotel room on the second floor in silence. Rebecca scanned the access card and then opened the door. Eden glanced around the room and took in the rug, green sheets, and tan wallpaper. It was a decent room, compared to what she had seen of the outside of the hotel. Her mom must have done well, the idea of which made Eden sick to her stomach.

  "I'm going to take a shower," Eden said, walking to the bathroom and opening the door.

  She stripped down and showered, and when she came out again, the lights were off. There was the sound of squeaking in the dark. A rat? I wouldn't be surprised if a place like this had those. She flicked on the light and saw it wasn't a rat she heard. It was Rebecca. Sobbing.

  Her mom's shoulders were hunched, and she stared straight ahead, face pale. Eden stepped toward her and sat on the bed next to her, unsure if she was allowed to hug her or not.

  "You hate me, don't you?" Rebecca asked.

  "Of course not," Eden said, though she knew she was lying.

  A part of her did hate her mom. Half of her was so filled with anger she felt as if she was trying to compress a quickly inflating balloon. The problem was she loved Rebecca too, and that part of her was stronger.

  "I don't think I can do this anymore," her mom sobbed, leaning against Eden's shoulder.

  "Do what?" Eden asked, her stomach bubbling with anxiety.

  "Stay with your father."

  "No, Mom, don't." Eden gritted her teeth. "Work it out. You have to. Give him another chance."

  "I've given him more chances than I can count."

  Trembling, Eden wrapped her arms tighter around Rebecca, and then tighter still. Suddenly, her throat constricted, and she felt as though she couldn't breathe.

  "Please, Mom. We just moved. That's stressful," Eden begged. "Let things calm down. Go to a therapist. Just don't split up."

  "I don't think that will work." Rebecca's eyes clouded over. "Your father is as stubborn as a mule."

  He wasn't the only
one.

  Her mom began to run a finger along Eden's chin. Even though it was a sign of affection, Eden's skin burned because of the sharpness of Rebecca's nails. Eden was forced to turn and look her mom in the eye.

  "I don't want you to worry, okay?" Rebecca said. "Even if things seem hard right now, they'll always get better in the end."

  How can I not worry? Eden gritted her teeth. The enraged balloon in her chest inflated even further and became almost impossible to force down. It began to feel as if her fury was going to engulf her and set her on fire. But she was strong enough to push it down again. She knew she couldn't blow up now. She had seen what her dad's anger caused and knew it only made matters worse. She didn't want to be like him.

  "Mom, I want you to know something." Eden stared intently into her mother’s eyes.

  "What's that?"

  "I love you," Eden said. "No matter what happens, okay?"

  Rebecca leaned forward and pecked her on the cheek. Eden watched her mother’s face and thought, Tell me you love me, too. Why don't you ever tell me that? But Rebecca did nothing but release her, roll over, and then pull the blankets back up to her shoulders, leaving Eden all alone. Like always.

  Eden sighed and went over to her bed.

  Chapter Three

  Burning.

  That was what she felt — burning. Fire was filling her up, consuming her. She felt like she was drowning in heat. Where am I? Why is it so hot?

  She peered around and was shocked to find no fire. There was just a dark, empty horizon with no trees or buildings. Lonely. Desolate. Hot. Then she saw movement out of the corner of her eye and tried to stand up in alarm, only then discovering she was shackled to a chair made from sizzling hot stone.

  Somebody, or something, moved again, and suddenly people were everywhere. Or were they really people? They appeared like men and women dressed all in black, pacing in front of her.